


i want a scar that looks just like you (til then i gotta learn to be a wiser fool)

by drusillaes



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe -Vampires, Carmilla the novella, F/F, Femslash, First Kiss, First Love, Gay shenanigans, Modern Carmilla AU, No sex because they're kids, Second Person, Vampires, not the webseries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 09:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19248190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drusillaes/pseuds/drusillaes
Summary: baby i need a friend, but i’ve a vampire smile you’ll meet a sticky endand here i’m trying not to bite your neck but it’s beautiful and i wanna get so drunk on you (and kill your friends)You're fourteen, and the most beautiful girl you've met has just collapsed in front of your house. Also, btw, she might not be human.





	i want a scar that looks just like you (til then i gotta learn to be a wiser fool)

**Author's Note:**

> title and chapter titles are from Vampire Smile by Kyla LaGrange, which just radiates lesbian vampire energy.

It starts with the car crash.

It starts with the screech of tires, the screaming of pedestrians, the honking of horns.

It starts on June 21st, when you haven’t even gotten dressed yet.

 

Still you run down the stairs, bare feet sliding on linoleum, and across the kitchen to the open door, where you can see your father running down the steps to a smoking wreck of a car crash, and pulling a girl out of it.

The girl seems dazed. She wears a white dress and a look of almost damsellian distress and before you even register your movements, you’re running forward to support the girl’s weight. She blinks, clouded green eyes, and you’re compelled to say, “Are you alright?”

“My driver,” the girl says dizzily. “Where -”

But you see the remains of a body being pulled from the crash and try to tell her not to look -she _does_ look, though, and then the girl faints on the steps of your nice white house like a princess in a fairytale.

 

“May I have some water?” the dark-haired girl asks when she awakes. Your father had carried her onto the sofa, while you followed anxiously. There are cops in the room too, and a paramedic who keeps telling everyone not to crowd her, please.

You run to get the water, and her hands are shaking so you help lift it to her little pink mouth.

“Thank you,” the girl says with a smile both delicate and genuine.

“Gwen,” you say even though she didn’t ask. “I’m Gwen.”

“Do you know your name, dear?” the paramedic asks, but the girl’s eyes stay fixed on you. (they’re so _green_ and _bright_ , and fixed like lasers).

“Morgana,” she says, and it’s a fairytale name for a fairytale girl. “Morgana Pendragon.”

 

 

Morgana uses your dad’s phone to call her mother -she’d been traveling across Britain to meet her from her father’s house. But her mother’s still in Glasgow, and she can’t come get her, and Morgana’s father has already left for the United Arab Emirates, and Morgana has nowhere to stay.

Before she can look any more distressed, you say, “Dad, she could stay with us, couldn’t she?”

The room doesn’t go quiet, and there’s no reason Morgana should have heard what you said, but her eyes find you across the room anyway.

“Gwen,” your dad tries, but you can tell he’s just as taken by the need to protect this queer, waiflike girl as you are.

“Let me speak with your mother, Morgana?” Dad asks, taking the phone, and it’s decided that Morgana will be staying with you until August, when her mother can come pick her up.

She smiles at you, a secretive, catlike sort of smile and you _beam_ back.

 

 

Morgana stays in your room with you, in your four-poster bed. She marvels appropriately at your comic books -she’s never read a comic book before, and you can’t believe that -and politely ignores your dolls, because at the age of fourteen you’re much too old to be playing with dolls anyway.

 

And her _stories_. Morgana tells the best stories you’ve ever heard. There are brave princesses, and wicked women, and she weaves the edges of her tale around you just like her witches weave traps around their damsels. She always ends with cliffhangers, like Scheherazade in _1,001 Arabian Nights_ , which was where the Disney movie _Aladdin_ had come from, except your dad told you they had to modify it to make it kid-friendly. Every summer night ends with you and Morgana lying on the bed, facing each other, while she tells you a story. “This,” she’ll always say, “Is something you’ve never heard before, and you’ll never hear again.”

And she’s right. She’s always right.


End file.
